Role Model
by White Phantom
Summary: Before Sethyl Sunblade joined Impervious, he was but a simple jeweler, trying desperately not to snap and strangle is younger brother.


_Disclaimer: If I owned the Warcraft universe, there would be high elves as a playable race on the Alliance. Probably for the best that I don't, right?_

_A/N: I went through this story and fixed a few grammatical errors, as well as added a scene to help the story flow better. I'm reposting it for feedback :) Does it still seem like something's missing from it?_

...-...

Sethyl Sunblade bit his lower lip as he peered down at the ring between his fingers, carefully lowering a small gem into its frame with thin tweezers. Just before he could fit it properly, a chin rested on his shoulder and bumped his arm, hitting the gem against the ring and sending it bouncing across the table.

Sethyl jerked to his feet, ignoring his spectator as he cried out when his lower jaw was snapped into his upper, and whirled around, nearly backhanding the young elf standing just behind him.

"You little idiot!" He hissed, grabbing the boy by his collar and jerking him so that their noses nearly touched. "Do you know how long it takes to do this sort of detail? Do you know how much longer it takes when you bother me?"

The young elf, Merryck Sunblade, stared up at his older brother with wide blue eyes. However, even as he tried desperately to scrounge up an apology, two firm, worn hands grabbed each of them by the backs of their collars and pulled them apart.

Sethyl cursed when one of his fingers caught on his brother's shirt and twisted, nearly breaking. As he shook out his hand, his father whacked him on the back of the head. "Such language is unbecoming of a priest."

"I'm not going to be a priest. Not an official one, anyway," Sethyl muttered, dropping back into his chair and looking for the missing gem. He ran his fingers through his short, spiky brown hair as his eyes scanned the table. Just as he was about to dart over and smack Merryck again, he spotted it, just barely resting in a crevice in the wooden surface.

As he reached to get it, Merryck's fingers plucked the little gem from its place, and he held it out to his brother, though his eyes held a certain resentment. "I just wanted to see what you were doing."

"Well, you saw," Sethyl muttered, taking the gem back and jerkily rearranging his equipment.

Their father patted Merryck on the shoulder and asked him to go get him some wiring from the back room. The boy perked up and darted from the room. It was times like this where he still looked childish—his little fuzz goatee didn't help matters much. Sethyl liked to tease him he'd never look grown up. As soon as he was out of earshot, their father slouched onto the workbench next to Sethyl.

"You know I don't expect you to take over the business. You have a gift—"

"Yes, I know," Sethyl muttered, ignoring his father's exasperate sigh. "I can set a gem faster than most anyone. That's a gift. Being able to toy with the light? Not so much."

"You mended Merryck's broken arm just last month."

"Any priest over thirteen could." Sethyl debated trying to finish the ring as they talked, but decided against it. Merryck would be back soon enough, and he didn't want to have a repeat of what had just happened. What was that definition of insanity...?

His father took in a slow breath. When Sethyl looked at him, he noticed that he somehow seemed old. It was unsettling. He could still see his father swinging him up into the air, tackling him as they play-dueled with stick swords. He didn't like realizing that time was creeping forward, moving all of them toward the inevitability of death.

Watching him, his father shook his head slowly, a half smile on his lips. "I don't know what you're thinking, but if you keep it up, I might have to smack you."

Sethyl tried to laugh. He always had such a way of wearing his heart on his sleeve. He shifted in his seat so that he could better face his father. "Can't you do something about Merryck? He's such a pain. If we need money to send him to school, then I'd be happy to hel—"

"He doesn't want to go to any of the mage schools. He wants to be like you."

Sethyl had heard this speech before, over a dozen times. Just because he could recite it by heart didn't mean that his father would decide not to say it, so Sethyl let him talk. Honestly, he couldn't see why Merryck would want to be anything like him. He was a mediocre priest at best and, while yes, he was a damned good jewel crafter, he wasn't employed at any of the fancier stores. Instead, he was stuck in his family's business. It wasn't like he'd ever be renowned for his work.

And he sucked as an older brother. Weren't the younger generations supposed to strive to be better than their seniors?

"Sethyl," his father interrupted his thoughts. As he looked up, the older elf sighed. "Have you ever thought of asking about being sent out...? Maybe to the human lands to get experience as a priest...or anything, really."

"No!"

The voice came from the doorway. Both men turned to see Merryck standing there, horrified. He stalked into the room, throwing the wire on the table. "Sethyl can't leave! We need him here!"

Their father frowned. "We'd get by without him, if he chose to follow his own path."

Sethyl had to say he agreed with Merryck. Since the quel'dorei opened their doors to the humans, it seemed harder to sell pretty much anything. In truth, he'd only heard rumors of what it had been like, once upon a time, when it was a strictly elven economy to worry about.

Nowadays, humans were always there, always making things cheaper. It didn't help that they were so easily enraptured by elven appearances, either. A simple wink and kiss to the hand could win a man a sizeable discount and it disgusted Sethyl to think that some of their merchants were probably sleeping with the humans, just to get better deals. If it was love, that would be one thing, but for simple manipulation...

His father frowned at both of them and then shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I was hoping you'd be a willing participant, but if not, that's fine. You're going anyway." As Sethyl's eyes widened, he stood up. "Magister Dawnwhisper offered to take you with him the next time he goes to the human cities to trade. I told him you'd be happy to accompany him."

"Why would you do that?" Sethyl cried out, feeling as though he were somehow being kicked out of his home.

"You need to get out of this place, to see what the world can offer."

~"~

Sethyl strode through the door to his father's shop, dirt and sweat stains ruining his robes. He shuffled up to the nearest chair and collapsed into it. In a second, he felt that he was being watched. He didn't open his eyes, knowing that would be the cue for a barrage of questions. Instead, he sat there in silence, reveling in the fact that he was home, that even after being gone for nearly a month, his brother was still there to look up to him...even if he hadn't done anything worth looking up to.

The human cities had been a definite change of scenery. He wasn't fond of them, though he supposed he could see that their business would fare far better if they continued to cater to their peoples' allies. Somehow, just the fact that his rings and trinkets had been made by elves made them worth more in the common folks' eyes.

By the light, he'd even had a few women ask him if he was some sort of noble, as his clothes were of such a fine make. While he'd somehow managed a straight face, he'd had to laugh when he was by himself. The only reason his robes were finer than theirs' was because they'd been woven with magic rather than fingers. In another dozen years, those fast-learning humans would be making their clothes the same way, and the awe of it would be lost.

For the times as they were, however, it seemed that everything elven was more desirable to the humans. He was starting to see why merchants were so quick to offer their wares to humans before their own kind.

Regardless of profits to be made, Sethyl was glad to be home. He'd told his magister mentor that he looked forward to being out of sight from prying, curious eyes, though in truth, he'd been excited to come home and tell Merryck of the world beyond Silvermoon's gates.

He couldn't help but wonder if his little brother would want to live in the human cities, as curious as he was.

Sethyl took in a slow breath and opened one eye slowly to peer at his brother, who was sitting across from him with baited breath, fingers laced as he rested against the table between them, not wanting to lose his chance for stories by rushing his brother into talking.

The two held each others' gazes for a long, quiet moment before Merryck couldn't take it anymore. "Was it bad?"

"Like having dozens and dozens of yous running around," Sethyl said pointedly, though he grinned and reached out to tussle his brother's hair.

Merryck jumped up and ducked out of his reach. "Don't touch me until you've had a bath!"

Eyebrows twitching toward one another, Sethyl darted to his feet and caught his younger brother in a headlock. As the boy struggled, he laughed. "Don't disrespect your elders, you little brat."

Merryck managed to break free. He stuck his tongue out, irritably running his fingers through his hair to try to fix it. Even as Sethyl teased him that he couldn't fix a rat's nest, his brother returned to dogging him. "But what was it like? Are the human cities really made from grungy bricks? Do they really not use magic the way we do?"

"You are such a pain," Sethyl sighed. He tried to step past his brother, enjoying drawing out the suspense, but paused as the elf moved to block his path. With a gentle smile, he reached out and messed up his brother's hair again. "Let me get cleaned up. Then I'll tell you all about it, alright?"

Merryck beamed as he stepped out of his brother's way. "I'll hold you to that, you know?"

~"~

"You got a minute?"

The voice whispered straight into Sethyl's ear, and the little gem he was setting bounced out of the way. Before it could even hit the table, however, a quick hand caught it and held it up for him. Sethyl gave his brother a sideways glare as he plucked it from his hand. "At least you're learning to compensate for your idiocy."

"You're gonna thank me for this interruption."

"Am I?" Sethyl leaned back so that he could look down his nose at Merryck. Somehow, since he'd come home from the human cities, he hadn't gotten as angry as he used to. Perhaps he was growing into someone worthwhile as his brother did the same.

"You have a potential new client." Merryck hopped back a pace and bowed as he motioned toward the door. "You shouldn't keep him waiting."

Skeptical though he was, Sethyl carefully placed his tools where they wouldn't fall, and then headed out into the main room of their shop. The room was empty. With a frown, he started to turn around to see just what his brother was up to, when he realized he could sense something just outside.

Something dark.

He might not be much of a priest, but he was an elf, and he could feel the magic beyond his door. It was touched with fel. Unease crept through him as he wondered if his brother had unwittingly stumbled into trouble.

With a slow, steady breath, he walked to the door and stepped outside. A man stood there garbed in dark robes, with long black hair that was just beginning to be streaked with gray. A few wrinkles around his eyes marked him about the age of Sethyl's father, though time had been kinder to him. He was talking with Sethyl's mother, who was quite fascinated with whatever tale he was telling.

She caught sight of him first, and her smile flashed beautifully as she waved him over. "This is my older son."

"He looks about the age of my younger," the man laughed. It sounded melodious. Too much so. There was magic at work, altering the man's very nature. Hiding it. Sethyl cautiously stepped up to them, standing with one shoulder a little in front of his mother. He tried to look amicable, though a glint in the elf's eyes let him know that this stranger could see straight through his façade.

"My brother said you wanted to purchase something?"

"Yes and no," the man shrugged, apparently unconcerned with Sethyl's wariness. "I want to sponsor you."

Sethyl forgot about the strange aura around the elf, his mouth hanging open. When the man reached out and closed it for him, a single finger under his chin, Sethyl stumbled back a step and then looked from the elf to his mother and back. She was beaming. "You…I'm sorry, what?"

"My wife and I were out when a gem on her ring came loose." He tapped his own finger for emphasis. "She was quite distraught when your brother darted up and offered to fix it for her. We don't normally accept random acts of kindness, but your Merryck was quite persistent. He didn't even need any tools. Did some trick to bend the metal back into place…didn't even leave a scratch. The ring looked as good as the day I bought it." The man laughed and motioned to Sethyl. "He said you taught him that. He also said that you were the best jewel crafter in Silvermoon and that your talents were being peddled out to humans."

"I was showing him some of your work," Sethyl's mother chimed in. The man smiled as Sethyl glanced back to see which pieces had been shown. Some of them were almost a year old, though they'd been the few that hadn't sold—and the necklace he'd made for his mother for her birthday. As his mother chattered away, all he could see were the various imperfections in the metalwork.

He looked back at the stranger. "I can do better."

"Which is why I'm sponsoring you," the man made a flourished bow. "Tahnaezhan Duskflame, at your service." He rose from his stoop and that pleasant smile remained in place as Sethyl quickly returned the bow. "I look forward to seeing your progress." He bowed his head toward Sethyl's mother, and she curtseyed back. "I'll make sure everything is tended to. You should receive a letter in the next week in regards to what shop to send your son."

After a few more pleasantries, the man mounted upon a grand looking hawkstrider and rode off. Even as Sethyl stared after him, only barely able to remember something had been odd about him, a great weight thudded into his back and arms gripped his neck. Reaching back, he caught Merryck before the boy could take them both down and grinned over his shoulder at him.

Merryck looked so proud. "I told you you'd want to come out here."

Managing to untangle himself from his brother, Sethyl turned to face him, at a loss for what to say. Finally, he shook his head. "Why didn't you try to get the apprenticeship yourself?"

Glancing toward their mother and then to the shop—their father had been upstairs and was coming out just in time to see the stranger riding off—Merryck finally shrugged. "Now you don't have to leave the city. You didn't really care for the human lands, did you?"

~"~

Sethyl stood in front of a small stone, shuffling his feet as he gripped his plate helm under one arm. The wind caught his tabard and made it flutter as his green eyes read over the name engraved upon the worn rock again. Somehow, it seemed that if he read it enough times, maybe it would change. Maybe he could take Merryck's place.

After all, it should have been his brother who was apprenticed at the jeweler's store near the nobles housing. It should have been his brother who was invited to fancy dinners so that his wares could be flaunted before others who would quickly flock to get a piece made for themselves, not wanting to be outdone. Instead it had been Sethyl.

When the Scourge had hit, he'd been having dinner one of his coworkers and his son, Ralarr. There had been talk of the enemy's approach for days, and Sethyl had even considered going to the priesthood and asking if his services would be needed, but Ralarr had convinced him otherwise.

They had plenty of warriors and mages and healers. There was no way the Scourge could truly be as powerful as the rumors said. Even when his father had interrupted their dinner, having traveled all the way there just to give Sethyl an old family staff to defend himself with, should he get cornered by something on his way home, they hadn't taken it seriously. He'd dismissed his father's shaking hands and wild eyes, instead convincing the man to stay the night with Ralarr's family, telling him that they'd go see Merryck and his mother in the morning and perhaps even move them to one of the inns nearby to wait out whatever this menace was.

It hadn't been until his father had come back the next afternoon, face tear-streaked as he told Sethyl that they weren't letting anyone into their home district, that it had been 'lost'. Sethyl and Ralarr had found their way past the guards, but they hadn't been able to reach the shop. The ghouls were rampant.

"You saved my life, little brother."

Sethyl squatted down and ran his fingers over the untrimmed grass. Too many had died to keep everyone's graves well kept. Perhaps he could come by and tend to it, though that would not be fitting a task for a Blood Knight.

If only he'd taken his father seriously, or insisted that Merryck be trained with him. If only he'd convinced his father to move their family on Master Duskflame's coin—the man had offered, saying it wouldn't do for Sethyl to have to walk so far to his apprenticeship, but his father had been stubborn, not wanting anything he hadn't earned himself. His mother had been so proud of him for that.

He glanced to the grave beside Merryck's and tried to smile at the worn stone. Both graves looked far older than they were.

"They offered me a position as a captain," he told the rocks, wondering if there was actually anything left of either of them to hear him. "I turned it down. Dad's having a hard time keeping the shop running...especially with you and mom gone...and I figured when I wasn't defending the city, I could help out. He was furious with me. As usual, right?" He paused, feeling tears welling in his eyes. Sethyl pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment as he willed himself not to cry. When his loneliness had lessened enough for him to regain control of his emotions, he took in a ragged breath, though it seemed so guilty an action to do around the dead. He shouldn't have been the one breathing.

"I don't know what I should—"

"Are you Master Sethyl Sunblade?"

Sethyl snapped his mouth shut and turned a hateful glare to the elf who had interrupted his visit. The man looked to be a Farstrider, though something about him felt off. Was he a high elf in disguise? Sethyl dismissed the notion as he rose to his feet, keeping a cold gaze on the stranger. "I am."

The elf held out a letter to him. "This is for you."

Snatching the envelope from the other's hands, Sethyl easily tore it open, and his gaze flitted over the carefully penned words—Orcish, not Thalassian. It was...had this elf really thought it necessary to interrupt his visit to his brother and mother with a meager guild invitation? As he looked up to inquire if this was some kind of joke, he found himself standing alone in the cemetery.

Sethyl paused and looked around and then back at the note in his hands, as though he expected that to disappear as well. However, it was no trick, and the parchment—still fresh as though it had just been written upon moments before he'd received it—remained in his hands.

He considered tossing it to the side, but something stopped him. For a moment, he was sitting back at his father's worktable, with Merryck peering over his shoulder, whispering how he wished he could get a letter like that and asking Sethyl to make sure to tell him what came of it.

Sethyl blinked, and the magic of the moment was gone. He was back in the cemetery, with the wind adding a cold edge to the air that made him shiver.

He folded the note carefully and looked back down at the markers one last time, a sad, half smile playing on his lips. "I'll let you know, okay?"

...-...

_A/N: This story is one of the side stories for Impervious. While you don't need to read one to get the other, if you're interested in following Sethyl's journeys, they continue in that fic._


End file.
